Lines of an Overprotective Father
by TaintedMoonlight
Summary: Was there every any particular reason Death Scythe seemed to dislike Soul Eater Evans hanging with his daughter so much?


**Lines of an Overprotective Father**

* * *

"Maka," Soul muttered for the fifth time that day, "This is a stupid idea."

Maka struggled to keep her balance, holding Soul above her head. "Shut up, will you? You're going to make me fall."

"You wouldn't have to worry about falling if we weren't doing this in the first place."

"It'll help." She protested.

"Help crack our skulls."

"You're in weapon form. A fall won't crack your skull."

"And I suppose _your_ skull is unimportant?"

Maka wavered slightly. "How about this? You worry about your skull and I'll worry about my skull."

"If I agreed to that, you might be dead by now."

Maka pointedly ignored him.

Soul sighed and focused instead on the landscape below them. Yes, Maka was decidedly nuts. Where on earth did she get the idea to do such a stupid thing anyway? Probably Black Star. Suddenly Maka wavered, but she managed to catch her balance immediately. Soul let out a sigh of relief. "This is a stupid idea, Maka!"

"You've said that eight times and I've yet to fall, so hush."

Soul decided that telling her it was actually six would do no good. Currently, they were posed 38 feet above the ground on a small wooden stick. Maka was making her way quickly back and forth on the stick in order to improve her balance so things would go better during battle.

Soul could think of a thousand better ways to improve one's balance. There was ballet, there was any form of dancing really, there was hopping around on one foot, there was sports… Hell, she could've at least put pillows on the ground in case they were to fall, but apparently according to her that defeated the purpose of the training.

Maka squeaked lightly, and then Soul felt himself falling.

Fuck.

He shifted immediately and held on to Maka. They hit the ground with unbelievable force, sending rocks, dust, and grass flying up. Soul coughed heavily, his eyes watering from the rather large pain in the back of his head. Other than that he felt fine. Which meant Maka was probably fine. The dust settled slowly; indeed Maka had moved off him and was also enduring a coughing fit.

Soul sneezed. "I told you it was a stupid idea."

"I thought I told you to worry about your own skull." She snapped, but not so crossly so that he thought she actually meant it.

"Yes, and I told you that was out of the question."

Maka rubbed some dirt off her face. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She mumbled.

Soul stood steadily, his knees warbling a bit. "Watch it when you—" He didn't get to warn her to be careful when standing as she was already doing so and pitching backward. Without a second thought Soul caught her from behind. "Stand." He finished lamely.

The last cloud of dust seemingly settled and Soul could see the landscape in front of him once more.

"What are you doing?" Death Scythe stood before them, his eyes steely and voice threatening.

Soul blinked. What was he doing?

"Get your hands off Maka!" Death Scythe growled.

Soul looked down at his hands and blushed immediately, snapping them back in a flash. He was touching an area he really should not be touching. "I wasn't—"

"Maka chop." Maka said dully, hitting him right on the top of his head.

Soul rubbed his head. "I didn't mean to." He complained.

"I know." Maka muttered a blush on her face as well.

Seeming to be in a tantrum Death Scythe launched at him, features in a fury, and yelling fragments that only occasionally made sense. Death Scythe probably would've hit him if it weren't for Maka holding the collar of his shirt preventing him from going any further.

Soul sighed. "Seriously, I wasn't trying to do anything."

"Maka chop." Now, Death Scythe was rubbing his head in pain. "Maka, why do you have to be so mean to your papa?"

Maka stared blankly at him.

Death Scythe glared at Soul. "You lay another hand on her and I'll—"

"Yeah, yeah." Soul cut him off. He looked at Maka, "Are we going to try this nonsense again?"

Maka inclined her head. "Maybe we _should_ soften the ground."

"Don't ignore your papa!" He exclaimed.

Maka yawned. "We'll pick it up tomorrow. I'm kind of tired."

Soul nodded. "Alright."

"HEY!"

Soul placed his hands behind his head and walked alongside Maka. "Are you really gonna leave him there?" He looked back at Death Scythe.

He was crouched on the floor talking a miniature Maka doll. Soul shook his head and shifted awkwardly. Man, that guy was weird.

"Why not?" Maka muttered.

"He looks pathetic."

"Hn." She turned her head to look at him. A deeply disturbed look made its way across her face. "He has a doll that looks like me?"

"I can't believe he's your dad."

"Neither can I." Maka mumbled in astonishment.

"And he's the world's most powerful death scythe." Soul grumbled.

"For now." Maka replied.

Soul grinned. "For now."

"_Maka-chan_…" Death Scythe's voice could be heard in the wind.

* * *

**A/N:** I've been wanting to write a Soul/Maka, although unfortunately, so far this is as close as I can get.

Oh! I would really like to ask you, my lovely reviewers a favor.

I am now in my senior year of high school and have recently begun searching for scholarships; I've entered one in which I could get 500 dollars but it all depends on people voting for my picture. I have a link on my profile (near the top) and if you all could vote for my picture I would really truly appreciate it. You don't even have to register at the site to vote for my picture, (although, I believe registering would give my picture more points) so if you could go and vote I would owe you soooo much. I will be forever in your debt.

In fact, if you like, I will write absolutely any story you request of me. (Even if I hate the very idea)


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